


You Remind Me of the Babe (The Babe with the Force

by Celebrimbor1999



Series: CAI-AS097 [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Attempt at Writing Computer, Cyborg Character, Day 3 Magic, Gen, OC falls in love with the Razor Crest, Slightly graphic description of vomit, Writer's Month 2020, because why not, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25688335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celebrimbor1999/pseuds/Celebrimbor1999
Summary: Their breath – unnecessary as it was – caught in their throat. Against their current programming, a series of beeps left their throat. He is beautiful. Lovely sleek lines were highlighted by the glare of the dual suns, the silvery metal nearly blinding them until they reduced the light input for their eyes, a solid build but obviously built for speed… Motto glanced over and groaned. “Oh please, don’t go fallin’ in love with another ship AySo.”Basically, AySo meets the Child – AKA the Magic Baby. And falls in love with a ship. Go figure. Writer’s Month Day Three: Magic
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Original Character(s), Eventually - Relationship, Peli Motto & Original Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Original Character(s)
Series: CAI-AS097 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862767
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	1. Chapter 1

AySo flicked at their dreads again and swore. “Stupid kriffing pieces of scrap, should tear them off and melt them down, all they are bloody good for, the—” A hand connected with the metal panel over their ear, setting off alerts. Spinning around with spanner in hand, they shifted their mouth down five degrees into a scowl.

Motto stared down at them with crossed arms. “Don’t you go swearing like that around my droids, kid.”

“I became a mature adult fourteen standard years ago, Motto,” Ayso said, spinning the blue circle of their iris in a mockery of the normal organic eye roll, “And I have heard you swear worse when you get stuck inside an engine.”

They absently dodge the next swipe, grabbing a spare wire to secure their dreads. Motto nodded at the movement. “Haven’t seen a Uraei have to tie back their dreads before – it’s like watchin’ a Twi’ tyin’ back their lekku.”

AySo’s hands froze on the dreads. “Normally one would not,” they say quietly, “But mine are damaged and do not move the way they used to.” A small line of binary ran through their processor – _they do not look the way they used to._ It called up an archived image from twenty-nine years ago of themselves with 1.25-metre-long dreads tangling around their hips, desert sun making the copper scales shine. They were white now, with burned black tips, and only 35cm from base to tip. They did not move anymore. ***Uraei Dreads – With a similar fashion and purpose to the Twi’lek lekku, dreads are scale-covered tails with a limited muscular and nervous system allowing movement. The average Uraei can have between fifty to twenty dreads, never exceeding a two-centimetre circumference. Ranging in various metallic colours, including gold, silver, bronze –***

Motto’s voice snapped them out of the stream of data. “I came over to tell you we’ve3 got a new customer comin’ in. A bounty hunter with a damaged Razor Crest. I’d advise coverin’ up your identifying bits if you’re gonna be helpin’, just in case.”

“Of course, thank you for the warning.” Ayso pulled the bandana away from their neck and tucked their dreads beneath it, ignoring Motto’s curious glance at the copper wires under their scales running up and around their neck. A pair of welding goggles covered their eyes – too obviously mechanical, unlike the wires which could be considered a ‘ _fashion choice’._

AySo did not want to take the risk of being identified while their ship was out of commission. If the Hutts found out that they were here… The sound of engines heralded the approaching ship, and they joined Motto as it touched down. A humanoid in armour (* **Mandalorian: Connected via Creed rather than blood, the Mandalorians are a tribe of exceptionally skilled warriors--*)** stepped down the ramp.

Their breath – unnecessary as it was – caught in their throat. Against their current programming, a series of beeps left their throat. _He is beautiful._ Lovely sleek lines were highlighted by the glare of the dual suns, the silvery metal nearly blinding them until they reduced the light input for their eyes, a solid build but obviously built for speed… Motto glanced over and groaned. “Oh _please,_ don’t go fallin’ in love with _another_ ship AySo.”

But how could they not? The Razor Crest was an impressive piece of machinery – one of the best remnants of the Old Republic, unidentifiable to most modern systems. Originally a patrol ship, they could see how two mounted turrets had been added later, perhaps by his current owner. They felt their lips shift downward by ten degrees. The carbon build up around the engines needed to be removed at least 22.5 standard weeks ago. The landing gear was uneven by a difference of a metre. Given the sound of the engines, there was damage to the fuel lines, and possibly more carbon build up on the inside. The poor ship was a mess. Their frown turned upon the Mandalorian, who’s helmet was tilted down at Motto.

“ _No droids,”_ Came the modulated voice, and AySo tilted their head. Their vocal emotion analysis program wasn’t working properly due to the modulator, but was that… annoyance?

“It’s gonna take longer then – I’ve only got the one assistant. And it’ll be more expensive.”

AySo ignored the rest of the conversation, allowing their recording system to save it for later analysis. They walked up to the ship and placed a hand on the hull. _He needs a clean,_ they beeped to Fiver. _Please bring me the cleaning kit._ The droid beeped an affirmative to them before trundling off. Glancing around the bay, they couldn’t see the flash of sun off metal ( ***Beskar: The sacred metal of the Mandalorians and one of the hardest metallic substances – *)** so the client must be gone.

Motto walked over with hand on her hips. “This is gonna take some work,” she sighed. “And the Mando doesn’t want the droids near his ship, so it’s just you and me.”

AySo raised the thin line of copper scales over her eye in the organic manner of surprise. “Do I not count as a droid? I am, afer all, more mechanic than organic.”

Waving a hand, Motto said, “You’re not a droid though, are you? And what Mando doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Where do you want to start first?”

“I believe I will begin with the engines,” AySo said, adjusting the harness they wore over their jumpsuit, “I am the best suited to moving on higher, uncertain ground. We could not like a repeat of last week.”

Without waiting for a response, they threw a guide rope up and over the outside of the engine casing and began climbing up the hull. Their hands and feet weren’t scaled like the rest of their body, but the skin was tough and weathered. It was a matter of 40.73 seconds to reach the first engine. “I will need more washers, a replacement fuel line, some wire, and the welding kit, Motto,” They called down. “But it should not take me more than four standard hours to finish this engine.”

“I’ll have Sixer bring it over,” She called, already started on the carbon scoring. “The Mando’s gone to find some work at the cantina, so we’ve probably got a few hours till he comes back.”

As it turned out, they did not have ‘ _a few hours.’._ The Mandalorian returned within 30 minutes of the two beginning the repairs. AySo was largely ignored by the client – it was likely that he did not see them, as they were sitting inside the main body of the engine. There was also damage to the hyperdrive connection, and they hastened to repair it before Motto noticed. She didn’t like it when AySo did more repairs than the client was paying for, but they simply stored the subsequent soundbites in a file titled **Reasons Credits are Required According to Peli Motto.** AySo was well aware of the necessity of credits – they had spent approximately 29 200 hours reorganising funds in order to help various militaristic groups over the years. They just could not see the purpose in punishing the ship for the owners’ inability to properly manage their funds – an illogical concept, according to Fiver, Sixer and Eighter, but one that AySo adhered to.

It was not until they heard Motto enter the ship that AySo moved from the engine. They tilted their head and diverted more processing power to the subsonic implants in their ears. They registered the sound of Motto’s footsteps on durasteel, the squeak and uneven rumble of Sixer’s tread, the near-silent pings of metal shifting and settling as the planet cooled, an unknown high frequency noise -- ***Noise Identified: Colloquially known as ‘coo’, made by infants of various species*** Their mouth tilted down five degrees. What was an infant doing in a bounty hunters ship?

They used the guide rope to descend, meeting Motto as she exited the Razor Crest. In her arms was a small creature with green skin and comparatively large ears wrapped in brown fabric. AySo’s eyes glowed, two additional circles appearing in their eyes as they scanned the – ***Species Unknown*** Hmm. Interesting.

Motto was talking to the infant. “I’m gonna look after you, and then I’m gonna charge that Mando extra for babysitting!”

“Motto.”

At the sound of her name, she looked up and smiled. “AySo! Look what I found on Mando’s ship!”

“I can see that.” AySo took a step back as two very small hands reached out in their direction. “Will you be needing any assistance?”

The infant reached out further, making vaguely distressed noises. It tugged at something in AySo’s chest, and they rubbed the area. * **Personal Reminder – Perform full diagnosis – possible damage in middle thorax – pulling sensation indicative of loose wire or misplaced/strained muscle***

“I think it wants you to hold it!” Motto said with a smile.

“That… would not be wise. I have no experience with infants.” AySo took another step away as the creature began to -- ***Noise Identified – cry of distress, commonly occurring with younglings of various species when in need of comfort, sustenance, or REM sleep*.** “I believe it requires something.”

“It _requires_ you AySo,” Motto rolled her eyes. “Just take the damn baby!”

Apparently AySo didn’t move fast enough, because the infant made a gesture and suddenly their sensors were no longer registering the floor. They accelerated forward at a speed of twenty kilometres an hour before being brought to a stop before the infant. It was no longer making the distressed noise, but one identified as **Pleased/Happy.** It waved its hands once more, and AySo shifted her feet – now on the ground – to a firmer footing.

“Ooo, Mando has a _magic_ baby!”

“Magic is unquantifiable and thus impossible,” AySo said automatically. “I believe the infant would like to be held by me.”

“Obviously genius. Take the magic baby already!”

Deciding to ignore the continued moniker of _magic baby,_ AySo rapidly scanned the Holonet for information on infant-holding. * **Rest the infant against your head and shoulder, supporting the infants’ neck and head with your hand. Place your other hand under the infant’s bottom.*** The infant did not seem to require additional neck support, but appeared to enjoy being held against their chest. It did wiggle however, causing AySo to hastily shift their hold when the infant decided to face _away_ rather than _towards_ their shoulder.

Motto was absolutely no help. “You really have no idea what to do with a baby, do you?”

“I am a mechanic,” AySo said with enough voice modulation to suggest. “A cybernetically, mechanically augmented individual. I do not interact with infants.”

“Well this is a _magic_ baby, so you should be fine.”

“It is not magic Motto.” AySo took advantage of the infants distraction – Sixer and Eighter were switching cards on the barrel while Motto was preoccupied – to perform a deeper scan. “It is a physically-male presenting creature of an unknown species, approximately fifty years old and…” The scan had pinged a file. **Jedi Master – Old Republic – Yoda.** The image was of a similar creature to the infant, but of a more advanced age. “He is a Jedi – no, he has the capabilities of a Jedi.”

Motto’s face, after a moment of processing, conveyed a sense of _not understanding._

AySo sighed. “He reminds me of the Jedi Master Yoda.”

“What Yoda?” Motto frowned.

“Master Yoda, wielder of an energy commonly referred to as the Force.”

“The Force?”

“Motto, if you are going to continue repeating my words, I will refrain from trying to explain.” This was an unfortunate habit of hers. While exceptionally skilled in mechanics, Motto did not keep up with other news.

“Is the Force magic or what?”

“The Force is the manipulation of energy. Wielders such as Yoda and this infant are similar to power converters, if the files I have are to be believed. They are able to shift this Force – a metaphysical entity and energy – into a means to manipulate matter and minds.”

Motto shrugged. “Magic sounds more interesting.”

Spinning their iris, AySo drawled in Motto’s voice print, “Fine. It’s a magic baby.”

“I hate it when you do that,” Motto shivered. “It’s creepy hearing my voice come out of someone else’s mouth.” Her face lifted – mouth tilting upwards by a fraction of a degree, pupil expanding by two millimetres – “Since the baby seems to like you so much, you’re on babysitting duty!”

AySo blinked, briefly viewing the world through the misty lens of their nictitating membrane. “I cannot _babysit._ There are still repairs to be done.”

“You’ve got your harness,” Motto gestured, “Just strap him into that and you’ll be fine.”

Another blink. “I request a portion of the extra payment.”

“Fine. Just try and finish those repairs before Chenini rises – I don’t care how many times you tell me you don’t need sleep, you’re gonna sleep.”

“I shall endevour to complete the repairs quickly.” AySo strapped the infant to their harness with some of the extra wires – the insulates ones, so that they do not injure him – and climbed back up the Razor Crest. The infant _cooed_ as they ascended, looking up at their face. His eyes were wide and dark, in a manner similar to theirs, and reflected the stars.

“Please alert me if you require something,” AySo murmured at a fraction of their normal vocal volume, “And I shall provide it promptly.”

The infant made another noise -- ***Noise Identified – contentment* --** before shuffling closer to their chest.

“According to Holonet searches, infants require vocal communication with adults in order to gain their own understanding of language. I shall describe the process of engine repairs to you – perhaps you will become a mechanic.” After a moment, they tapped the infants head with a careful finger. “I cannot continue to call you _the infant,_ as you deserve a better moniker than simply a designation. Perhaps… perhaps I will call you _Magic Baby.”_

Magic Baby cooed in response.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Magic Baby. I am CAI – AS097, but I refer to myself as AySo.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Slightly graphic description of vomit, for those who can't handle that kind of stuff (Me personally, I can read it, I can't see it.)

AySo did not like electro-magnetic pulse devices. They interfered with the communication between their synapses and processors, disrupted the rhythm of their heart, caused minor damage to their wiring from stray electrical discharge, and were quite an inconvenience. Slumped on the dusty ground of the hanger, AySo accessed their memory banks from the hours prior to being forcefully disabled.

Magic Baby had been quite an easy infant to take care of (after comparing their interactions to the recollections AySo collected from the Holonet). He was calm while AySo completed the repairs, enjoyed the bone broth Motto prepared for him, and entered REM sleep just before the rise of Chenini. Despite Motto’s protests, they continued the repairs after placing Magic Baby in their bunk for safe keeping. By the first sunrise, the Razor Crest was suitably repaired. There were many things AySo still wished to do – a complete rehaul of the fuel lines, repairing, reprogramming and recalibrating the navicomputer (they hacked into it during the more monotonous repairs, and it was dreadfully out of date), and a deep and thorough cleaning off all exhaust vents, wire casings, landing gear joints, and other such grime-ridden areas, among other things – but Motto threatened to remove their leg if they picked up another tool before the Mandalorian returned.

While AySo would be able to prevent any of their body parts being removed without permission, they owed Motto much for not turning them into the Hutts, so they obliged. Five and three-fifths of a standard hour went by. Magic Baby explored the hanger, bringing AySo small items that the infant found interesting. Occassionally he would use his Force to collect items out of reach. This would consistently be followed by a period of peace and stillness.

A humanoid male entered the hanger, heralded by the sound of his hover-bike. Motto greeted him with Magic Baby in her arms – she must have believed it to be the Mandalorian – but it was a different bounty hunter. AySo had been chased by him when she first arrived of Tatooine three standard months ago. He was wielding a blaster and aiming it at the infant.

Unacceptable.

They ignored the conversation that ensued, recording it for later analysis. **(*Motto: What the fuck do you think you’re doing!* *Unknown: Do you know what you’re holding, how valuable it is?* *Motto: I don’t give a flying womp rat what you think the kid’s worth, you’re going to put down that fucking blaster!*)** AySo used the various equipment cluttering the hanger as cover to make their way to the bounty hunter’s blind spot. Loosening their joints kept their movements silent. A wire seemed to twist in their lower thorax. Adrenaline rushed her system, setting off alerts. The lizard they consumed 48 standard hours ago now sat uncomfortably in their second stomach. They did not want to do this.

They had to.

AySo was in position. In one hand was a metal pipe – not their weapon of choice, but the most accessible at the moment. They went to step out. Sixer screeched past their foot with a battle cry.

The bounty hunter cursed as he spun, a wide shot singeing a couple of AySo’s dreads. They leapt forward, barely missing the humanoid’s legs with the pipe before twisting to snap his legs out from underneath him. He pulled them as he fell, both smacking into the ground. Another shot went off, impacting beside AySo’s head and sending up a flare of rock and sand, but they didn’t blink. They grappled with the bounty hunter for a moment, trying to claim control of the blaster. A knee collided with AySo’s side. Integrity alerts ran through their processor, but they were ignored in favour of extending their spine and wrapping the majority of their torso around the bend of the bounty hunters’ arm and twisting. There was a crack and a scream. The blaster barked next to AySo’s auditory sensors, creating static that almost covered the sound of flesh and scales burning along their shoulder. They twisted again, pining the bounty hunter’s legs with their own for a moment. Glancing up, AySo caught sight of Motto backing away with Magic Baby. The bounty hunter took advantage of their momentary lapse in attention, grasping both of AySo’s hands and rolling to sit solidly on their thorax. Their hands were pinned above their head. No matter how AySo moved their legs, the bounty hunter would not be dislodged.

He grinned. It was not a nice smile. “Ah, the infamous Hydra. I thought I saw you on the ship earlier. I wonder, does the Mandalorian know what kind of bounties he surrounds himself with?”

“I am not a bounty,” AySo said, only half processing the conversation as they focused on the construction of their right lower leg. They had not had cause to do this for some time, but the program was still within their data banks.

“Not according to the Hutts. They’re willing to pay handsomely for whoever brings them the Hydra’s head.” The bounty hunter shifted his grip – one of his arms was definitely broken – as he fiddled with something in his pocket. “Two bounties in one day – the Guild will _have_ to accept me now.”

“Who is the other bounty?” AySo asked. They quickly severed the sensors within their leg, ignoring the sudden numbness. There was more than one reason why AySo cut off their jumpsuit at the knees – and not to show off their * **pretty purple scales*** as Motto liked to say. Behind the bounty hunter, the calf of their right leg slowly disassembled itself. The sound of excess parts hitting the ground was muffled by the sand.

“That little green gremlin doesn’t look like much, does he?” The bounty hunter shrugged and pulled out a small circular device. “Now, don’t move.”

The second the circle touched their head, small claws emerged and pierced the gaps between their scales. AySo thrashed, dislodging the bounty hunter, as electricity invaded their systems. Their ocular program was the first to go offline. The last was their auditory. It recorded one last soundbite –the distressed cry of the infant.

And that brought them to now.

**************

The Mandalorian slowly put his blaster on the ground, sparing a glance at the body beside it. It was Motto’s assistant, the strange looking Uraei. She was sprawled out on the sand, pitch black eyes meeting his sightlessly. Her right leg – he thought it had just been a prosthetic – was half disassembled, with something resembling the bare bones of a blaster attached to it with wires. A glowing circle was attached to her head, above one eye. Even as he straightened, the glow faded and disappeared. A blue light slowly circled in her eyes.

His hands behind his helment, he turned his attention to Calican. “Cuff him,” he ordered, pushing Motto forward.

She stumbles towards him with a pissed-off expression. “You better have a plan, Mando,” she muttered lowly, glancing down at her assistant. She saw the lights too. Her smile was both relieved and vindictive.

Calican hadn’t shut up. “You’re a guild traitor, Mando! Running off with one bounty – and then not catching the other one? Why’d you even take me up on my offer if you knew that _Hydra_ was right under your nose?!” Sweat was beading at his temples as he shuffled the wiggling child in his broken arm. The womp rat was crying and reaching out – at one moment for him, and then Motto’s assistant the next. The Mandalorian readied his flare, even as Motto dragged his wrists behind him.

“Maybe you’re not the great bounty hunter everyone thinks you are,” Calican continued, “if you can’t –” He broke off.

There was a high-pitched whine. Motto’s assistant sat up. Her grin was wide and feral, revealing shiny white fangs. In her hand was the strange blaster, still attached to what remained of her leg. It glowed blue. “Put down the infant, nerf fucker.”

In response, Calican held the child up higher. “You won’t shoot me! You can’t risk hitting the kid!”

The feral smile grew wider. “I do not miss.”

There was a flash of light.

Calican wasn’t standing anymore. He had crumpled to his knees the second his head disintegrated, dropping both the child and his blaster as he slumped forward. Motto’s assistant lunged forward, catching the child against her chest with a cry. The wires pulled out of her leg with a sickening squelch, still connected to the blaster she’d left behind.

The Mandalorian was quick to pick up his own blaster, aiming it at her. “Give me back the child,” he ground out. The name _Hydra_ wasn’t familiar – but who knows what she’d done to get a bounty on her head.

Her eyes now contained three blue rings. The child cooed up at her face, poking the metal circle with one claw. “I will not cause him harm.”

Motto stepped up beside him, pushing his blaster to the side. “Put that thing down, Mando. AySo’s no threat to you.”

“She made a blaster out of her leg,” he deadpanned. “That doesn’t sound like ‘harmless’ to me.” But despite his misgivings, he holstered the blaster. The child trusted her – and he seemed to have pretty good instincts regarding people.

“AySo’s a one trick pony with that – I can tell you right now that the leg’s the only full prosthetic.” Motto brushed past to poke at the remaining pieces of the leg.

“They, you mean.” There was a metallic undertone in AySo’s voice. Almost like his own modulator. “I prefer non-binary pronouns.”

****************

AySo stared impassively into the Mandalorians’ visor. Their stomach hurt. A foul taste lingered on their tongue. They wanted to throw up.

“I mean you no harm, Mandalorian.” They said haltingly, the electricity having upset the delicate balance between their organic and mechanical vocal cords, and they weren’t trying to be intimidating now. “The infant would be distraught should you be injured, and I have been tasked with ensuring his safety and happiness.”

Motto huffed as she wrapped a length of cloth around the remainder of their leg. “That’s AySo’s way of saying that they’re attached to the kid. Now, are you gonna give me a hand, or are you just gonna stand there and brood?”

The Mandalorian stared for a moment, before turning around to pick up AySo’s blaster and wires. Tension they hadn’t noticed tightening their spine relaxed, until their limbs went limp across the sand. Unfortunately, this also relaxed the hold they had on their gastrointestinal system. They were quick to push Magic Baby into Motto’s arms before turning to the side as they vomited. Black bile dripped from their lips into a pool of half-digested lizard.

There was more than one reason why their leg blaster was a last resort.

A rough hand pressed against their back. “Are you okay, AySo? That bastard wouldn’t let me check on you earlier – I wasn’t sure if an EMP could kill you.”

“It caused damage to both my organic and mechanical systems,” they choked out around another mouthful of bile. “I will be fine after a reboot and repairs.” They had begun those, even as they diverted power to the blaster, and AySo shuddered as sensation ran up their disassembled leg. The coarse cloth was rasping against the exposed end of their nerves.

Magic Baby cooed **(*Noise Identified: Concern*)** as he struggled out of Motto’s arms and into AySo’s lap. Their hand shook as they brushed it over the soft ears. “I am glad you are okay, Magic Baby,” they murmured, “I would have been most displeased if you had been injured.”

Motto snapped at the Mandalorian, “Put those part on the table over there, then get back here. I’m gonna need help moving this one.”

She then waved over Fiver, Eighter, and Sixer, the latter beeping in binary. * _Sorry AS0.*_ The droid looked as distraught as a fully mechanical individual could. * _Got in your way.*_

AySo beeped back. * _All good in the end. Be more careful next time.*_

Motto tapped Sixer on the head. “I need you to grab AySo’s repair kit from her bunk. The rest of you, I need some food, a fuel cell, some replacement wire, and some bacta from the first aid kit. You know what, just bring the kit.”

The Mandalorian kneeled by their other side. His helmet was focused on the child still sitting of their lap. “Alright womp rat, I need you to get off her – them.”

Magic Baby just held onto their jumpsuit tighter, reaching up towards their face. He made more noises **(*Noise Identified: Concern. Noise Identified: Confusion*).** AySo reached up too. “Thank you, Magic Baby. I had almost forgotten.”

The Mandalorian made a choking noise. “ _Magic_ baby?”

AySo slipped their fingertips under the EMP and tugged, ignoring the trickle of oil and blood between their scales as the claws ripped free of their flesh. They would have to examine this later, to see if there was a way to shield their systems from it.

Motto threw up her hands. “Don’t go pulling things out of yourself AySo! You’re still organic enough to feel pain!” She snatched away the infant, carrying him over to the table. “Bring the stubborn creature over here Mando.”

When the Mandalorian hesitated, AySo started to lift themselves off the ground. If they crawled, keeping the remnants of their disassembled leg from dragging in the sand, they could make their way over to the table with a minimum of discomfort.

“And don’t let them do it themselves!”

The Mandalorian huffed something too muffled for their systems to decipher, reaching down and easily pulling AySo over his shoulder.

“I am not an invalid, Motto,” AySo said as they were deposited gently on the table. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Uh huh.” Motto didn’t even look at her as she tugged at the jumpsuit, pulling it away from the blaster wound across their shoulder. “That’s why you keep wincing whenever your leg touches the ground.”

Examining the programming controlling their micro-expressions, AySo was appalled to see it in shambles. Their body was responding to most outside stimuli visibly.

“So,” Motto began as she unwrapped AySo’s leg. “About payment.”

The Mandalorian tilted his helmet from his chair, firm hands holding the squirming infant on his lap. “I got enough credits from Calican to pay you.”

“Don’t want your credits.”

AySo disconnected the sensors to their leg as Motto began reconnecting the wires to their blaster. They had been turned back on during their reboot. They were curious – Motto had never refused credits in the three standard months they’d known her.

“Then what _do_ you want.”

“I want you to get AySo off this planet.”

Both AySo and the Mandalorian froze.

_What?_

Motto looked up and met their eyes. “The Hutt’s know you’re on Tatooine. Calican contacted them to make sure the word-of-mouth bounty they had out on you was going to be honoured while he waited for Mando to come back. Who knows what they’ll do to you if you’re caught?”

AySo had a very good idea. They had been caught by Hutts before.

“And Mando, your ship needs a _lot_ more work and _constant_ upkeep. AySo’s the best mechanic I’ve ever met – better than me. They can probably do something about the kid’s bounty too.”

Magic Baby had a bounty? Interesting. A subroutine was created and immediately started exploring the Holonet. They wanted more information about that.

“I don’t want any droids on my ship.” The Mandalorians voice snapped AySo out of the strings of code and binary.

Their mouth tilted downwards by five degrees. “I am not a droid, Mandalorian. I am an augmented individual. Despite my cybernetic and mechanical enhancements, I still retain an organic consciousness. The more accurate classification for what I am would be cyborg.” They considered it to be an ill-fitting and outdated term, but close enough.

“I don’t need a crew.” He said after a moment.

“Your ship still requires upgrades. Your navicomputer is dreadfully out of date and running at 57% capability. Your hyperdrive looks like a two-year-old was given leave to try and program it. The Razor Crest, while a gorgeous piece of machinery, dates from before the Empire, and much of its technology reflects that.” AySo really did admire the Razor Crest. They always had a weakness for well-designed ships. They embarrassed themselves once in front of some Rebellion members when they were given the chance to work on the Millennial Falcon. “And I may be able to do something about the infants’ bounty – I was able to prevent my own bounty from being widely circulated, after all.”

The Mandalorian crossed his arms. “Why do the Hutts want you? Why do you have a bounty?”

“Oficially, I do not have a bounty,” AySo groaned as a series of supporting ‘bones’ were snapped back into place. “Unofficially, the Hutts want my head because I assist in running the freedom trail.”

Something relaxed in the Mandalorian’s shoulders. “You’re a slave runner.”

“I do not participate often in the physical escapes. I assist mainly in creating new identities and preventing freed slaves from being found again. I also regularly hack the Hutt systems to reorganise funds. The Empire remnants have also tried to find me, as I am technically a traitor to both the Republic and Confederacy of Independent Systems, due to my actions during both the Clone Wars and post Empire take over.” AySo allowed themselves to bare their teeth. “I am only technically a traitor because they refuse to admit to their participation in my existence.”

The Mandalorian made tilted his helmet. “You were created by the Empire?”

“I was augmented, experimented upon, and trained by an organization that later became part of the Empire. As far as I am aware, given that my memories before augmentation were removed, I was not a willing subject.” AySo didn’t like to thin about the blank spaces in their memory banks. They were left intentionally blank, in the hopes of finding footage from the times when they were Dana Hilal.

Something in their face must have discouraged any questions, because the Mandalorian was silent. Magic Baby looked up at him. Whatever he saw in the infant’s eyes must have changed his mind because he sighed. “Fine. But only until the Crest is fixed. Then I’m setting you down on another planet and you can find your way from there.”

AySo nodded. “Agreed.” While they would regret leaving behind their ship – or what remained of the poor thing – they had very little choice. They _needed_ to get off Tatooine one way or another.

“Fine.” The Mandalorian stood and sat the child down in his place. “I’m going to get everything set up on the ship – how much longer are you going to take?”

Motto closed up a panel in their leg. “Not much longer. It’s mostly getting everything into place here – AySo can do their diagnosis and everything while you take off.”

Well, they were doing it right now, devoting a subroutine to collaborating the results, but it would take longer than they had to complete it. “If Eighter could please collect the box from my bunk, it contains my belongings. I will not take up much space or credits on your ship, Mandalorian.”

He grunted before walking away. Motto turned to look at them. “I’m gonna miss you kid… but I don’t pity you having to put up with _that.”_ And she tilted her head in the Mandalorian’s direction with a laugh. “At least you’ve got the Magic Baby to keep you company.”

Said Magic Baby cooed a little in agreement, climbing the table to sit in their lap. AySo placed a hand on their head. “I do not much care for the actions of organics – I am looking forward to upgrading the Razor Crest. Such a fine ship does not deserve to bear such outdated machinery.”

Motto laughed and closed up the final leg panel. “Save the sweet talking for the ship, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more information about AySo here - I swear I'll go a bit further into her background, but for now you can kinda see it a little bit as a Winter Solider situation. Make of that what you will.

**Author's Note:**

> I made it! Barely, but I managed to complete my fic for day three! Whooo! It was a difficult process – I am doing this with aching legs at the moment, because my brother decided to take me on a 6.5km run. Yay. I hope you guys like AySo – they’re an individual/species of my own design, because I’m not comfortable enough with Star Wars aliens to try and use them (and I maybe had some ideas and decided ‘what the hell’) They are an android/cyborg, if that wasn’t obvious enough, and for future reference, AYSO WILL NOT BE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MANDO! Like AySo, I identify as asexual, and any future relationships (again, NOT WITH MANDO) will reflect that.   
> Hope you all enjoyed!  
> (PS this is not properly edited, please let me know if I’ve made any glaring grammar/other errors)


End file.
